You Are God’s Beloved Child

While admiring photos of a friend’s daughter I thought that how she feels – the pride, love, and joy –  is how God feels about us. Our love for our own children is mirrored in the love of God for us as his beloved children.

I remember my own children as toddlers. Toddlers are uncivilized, irrational, emotional bundles of messiness and dirty diapers and even though I wondered if they would ever be decent enough to be let loose in the world, I loved them deeply. No matter how often they did the same naughty thing, when they said something hurtful to me, or just exasperated me with their childishness, I never didn’t forgive them. I always longed to be in communion with them. 

This is how God feels about us only infinitely more. He sees us doing stupid stuff, hurting each other, and being disrespectful to him. He also sees our goodness. He sees how we strive and when we turn our gaze toward him and ask for forgiveness he welcomes us back with joy because we are his children. 

God said of Jesus, “This is my beloved Son.” Jesus hadn’t begun his public ministry yet. He hadn’t healed anyone or driven out any demons but God loved him and was pleased. No matter how messy you are or were or will be, you can always, always run to God’s waiting arms like a toddler running to her mother. He will be delighted to have you there. He’s waiting.

Imagine God saying the same of you just as you would of your own child. Be bold and insert your name.

“This is my beloved son/daughter ______ with whom I am pleased.”

God, thank you for creating me to be your beloved child. Help me to rest in your love today. 

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Merridith Frediani loves words and is delighted by good sentences. She also loves Lake Michigan, dahlias, the first sip of hot coffee in the morning, millennials, and playing Sheepshead with her husband and three kids. She writes for Catholic Mom, Diocesan.com, and her local Catholic Herald. Her first book Draw Close to Jesus: A Woman’s Guide to Adoration is available at Our Sunday Visitor and Amazon. You can learn more at merridithfrediani.com.

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Jesus is Born!

In preparing for Christmas in Italy, a family will assemble an intricate, detailed Nativity Scene called a presepe.  This custom was started by our beloved St. Francis of Assisi on Christmas Eve in 1223.  The presepe goes beyond a mere stable to include a landscape of the village and hillsides.  In addition to Mary, Joseph, assorted shepherds and wise kings who have often arrived too early, are villagers going about their daily chores.  The ordinary life of ordinary people is depicted.  What is not immediately part of the display is the Christ child.  In true Catholic tradition, the baby Jesus does not arrive until his appointed time at Christmas.

One tradition is to hide the babe somewhere in the village.  Viewers are tasked with trying to find him, a subtle reminder that Jesus can be anywhere, even in the mundane and prosaic.  The presepe is also a remembrance that our Lord was born without pomp.  The greatest thing to happen to the human race occurred quietly one night. The next day, all but a handful of people went about their daily life with no change.  Men and women labored.  Children played.  No one knew that the Son of God was in their midst and the world was going to change.

The Son of God is still in our midst.  Men and women still labor. Children still play. Now we celebrate each year.  As we search the presepe for the Christ child we also slow down and search the world for him.  He is present in the people we encounter and the tasks we complete.  Like a snowfall, Jesus brings beauty and unexpected joy.  He softens the harshness of our lives.  He connects us to others.  Everything is the same but so much better.  He comes during the darkest time of the year and brings us hope and light.

If we still our minds and hearts, if we step back from the hustle, if we just pause and breathe, we will find him quietly beckoning to us, inviting us in.

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Merridith Frediani loves words and is delighted by good sentences. She also loves Lake Michigan, dahlias, the first sip of hot coffee in the morning, millennials, and playing Sheepshead with her husband and three kids. She writes for Catholic Mom, Diocesan.com, and her local Catholic Herald. Her first book Draw Close to Jesus: A Woman’s Guide to Adoration is available at Our Sunday Visitor and Amazon. You can learn more at merridithfrediani.com.

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Happy New Year!

Happy New Year! Today is the first day of the new Liturgical Year as well as the first Sunday of Advent. Today we begin our watch. Today we begin to prepare for the birth of our Lord.

The days are short and dark now and for those who live in the northern part of the country they are cold. There’s a beautiful purposefulness in this. The darkness we experience is a reminder of the darkness in the world before Christ was born. The prophet Jeremiah writes during the time the people of Israel and Judah were exiled. The tribes were scattered throughout Babylon and Assyria, taken from their homeland, living with strangers in a strange land. The times were dark and they were far from God. 

But Jeremiah writes with hope. He tells of God fulfilling his promise to the houses of Israel to save them. Jeremiah is prophesying the coming of Jesus, the one who will rescue them from the darkness. They were in a period of waiting just as we too enter a period of waiting during these dark months. 

It can’t be a coincidence that the shortest day of the year – December 21 – is just four days before the birth of Christ, our light. The days will be getting longer as we celebrate his birth. We remember that Jesus came so that we may live. He brought light to the world. 

So we begin this time with a spirit of watchfulness as Jesus commands in the Gospel. He is referring to end times but the attitude required of us is the same. We are reminded that this world is fleeting. This time on earth may be dark. It may have trials and it may be frustrating, but it isn’t permanent. 

Jesus is coming to save us and in the end we can be with him in heaven where the light of God will envelop us in pure love and joy. 

Keep watch this Advent. Start this new year watching and waiting for our Lord and believing in Jeremiah’s words that he is coming to lead us out of the darkness and into the light of his – and our- Father. 

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Merridith Frediani loves words and is delighted by good sentences. She also loves Lake Michigan, dahlias, the first sip of hot coffee in the morning, millennials, and playing Sheepshead with her husband and three kids. She writes for Catholic Mom, Diocesan.com, and her local Catholic Herald. Her first book Draw Close to Jesus: A Woman’s Guide to Adoration is available at Our Sunday Visitor and Amazon. You can learn more at merridithfrediani.com.

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Our True Identity

One of my daughter’s friends announced that she is non-binary, changing her name to Shawn, and using they/them pronouns. In response to questions she said she is more comfortable with these words in identifying who she feels she is. 

How did we get here?

In the beginning, God created Adam and Eve. They lived happily in the garden until the evil one got involved and cast seeds of doubt. God told them that if they ate from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil they would die. Satan invited them to doubt the truth of God’s words and death entered in.. 

“But the serpent said to the woman, “You will not die. For God knows that when you eat it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” (Gen 3:4-5)

Satan is at it again. This time he is sowing seeds of doubt about our identity. The creation story tells us we are made male and female. This is our identity. The gender fluidity movement says that’s a lie – our gender is what we say it is not what God says it is.

He whispers, “You aren’t a female just because your biology is female. You are what you think you are. You are what feels comfortable.” 

In today’s Gospel we hear about who we really are. Our identity is as a fellow citizen with the holy ones. We are members of God’s household. The truth of who we are, our true identity, is that we are His. We are his sons and daughters. We are male and female parts of a large family spanning time and space. We are part of something built upon and held together by Jesus Christ. We are a place where the Spirit dwells.

When we embrace our place as children of God we come to see the beauty of our created bodies and we value that creation. We don’t pick our gender, we are blessed with our gender. Our gender is how we generate new life and God chooses whether we do that generating by creating seed or growing the new life inside us. It’s one or the other and we can look at our bodies to figure out which it is. 

Today we are reminded: we are not strangers to God. We belong to him. Our identity is as his children. We are not what the world says we are. We may not even be what we think we are. The truth is that we are who God says we are – beautiful children who belong to him. If we stay close to him, he will reveal more to us and we won’t have to listen to any lies.

Claim your place in his household. Number yourself with the holy ones. Stand firm upon his foundation and let his spirit dwell within you. 

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Merridith Frediani loves words and is delighted by good sentences. She also loves Lake Michigan, dahlias, the first sip of hot coffee in the morning, millennials, and playing Sheepshead with her husband and three kids. She writes for Catholic Mom, Diocesan.com, and her local Catholic Herald. Her first book Draw Close to Jesus: A Woman’s Guide to Adoration is available at Our Sunday Visitor and Amazon. You can learn more at merridithfrediani.com.

Feature Image Credit: Juan Pablo Arias, https://www.cathopic.com/photo/14655-soy-un-hijo-dios

Living Righteously

In today’s reading from 1 Peter for the memorial of St. Wenceslaus, we hear about righteousness and suffering. “Righteous” is a tricky word. It’s associated with surfers and the ‘70s and, in my mind, has an air of insincerity as if someone is acting righteous more for applause than because it’s the right thing to do. 

Merriam Webster defines it differently – “acting in accord with divine or moral law” – and it’s that definition that makes the Biblical use of it make sense. Paul warns Peter that righteousness may lead to suffering but that’s okay. The one who suffers for doing good is blessed. This can be hard to hear. We’d like to think that if we do good we will be rewarded with good – as if there is some sort of karmic bank into which we make deposits and withdrawals. If we treat others well, we will be treated well.

It’s not like that though. The reality, especially in today’s combative culture, is that being righteous – acting in accord with divine law – is going to bring some suffering. It may not be big. It may not be public mockery or losing a job. It will most likely come from people we know and love and it may be small comments or little jabs.

Pursuing holiness comes with a cost. In choosing to follow Christ’s teachings, we are choosing to live differently from the majority of people around us. As much as people can be inspired by being around someone who pursues goodness, people can also find fault with it. If you’re a regular Sunday Mass attendee, you may have heard comments from people about how “holy” and “good” you are. If you leave work early to go to adoration, someone may say something slightly snide. When it’s a stranger, we let it roll; when it’s a friend, it hurts. 

If you prioritize your faith and your relationship with Jesus, people will have comments and opinions and you may suffer. Today’s culture is not righteous, so when we try to live those values, it is brought to our attention how others feel.

But St. Paul tells us we will be blessed and because of that we can rejoice. It’s hard to hear the comments or see the looks that cross people’s faces but if it means we are doing the righteous thing then we can rest with Jesus in that. 

In the end, the only one whose opinion matters is God’s and he will be generous in his blessings. 

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Merridith Frediani loves words and is delighted by good sentences. She also loves Lake Michigan, dahlias, the first sip of hot coffee in the morning, millennials, and playing Sheepshead with her husband and three kids. She writes for Catholic Mom, Diocesan.com, and her local Catholic Herald. Her first book Draw Close to Jesus: A Woman’s Guide to Adoration is available at Our Sunday Visitor and Amazon. You can learn more at merridithfrediani.com.

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First Fruit

Imagine “nothing.” In the beginning there was nothing. From nothing God brought into existence everything. When I try to imagine what nothing is, I envision complete darkness, but even darkness is something.  Nothing is not a thing. This is what God started with and from it he created, he willed into existence, all that we see and know – from the molten core of the earth to the stars in the galaxy; from dirt to trees to rivers to animals. All of it came from the God of lights, the unchanging Creator. 

We read today that every perfect gift comes from God and we know from Genesis that everything God created is good. The sand, the rocks, the clouds and the elephants are good. The lions, bees, cows, and plants are good. God’s imagination is boundless and it is all good.

Take a moment to recognize all God created and then reflect on your place in it. Not only are you good by virtue of being a creature of God, but you, according to James, are a first fruit of God’s creation. The first fruit is the fruit of the harvest offered to God in thanksgiving. It’s the best and it’s offered in recognition that God deserves the best. 

Here, James is positing that humans are the first fruits of creation – the best. This includes all of us. By his will he created you just as you are and you are a first fruit. It’s hard to remember this. It’s easy to find fault with ourselves. When I look in the mirror I see what’s wrong more often than what’s right. When I reflect on my actions, I see where I could have done better instead of what I did well. I forget that by nature of being willed by God that I am good. He made me as I am and he loves me as I am. To tell myself otherwise is an insult to the One who made me because he only makes good.

I am a first fruit. As are you. We are good. We are loved. We are enough. 

Why?

Because God made us that way.

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Merridith Frediani loves words and is delighted by good sentences. She also loves Lake Michigan, dahlias, the first sip of hot coffee in the morning, millennials, and playing Sheepshead with her husband and three kids. She writes for Catholic Mom, Diocesan.com, and her local Catholic Herald. Her first book Draw Close to Jesus: A Woman’s Guide to Adoration is available at Our Sunday Visitor and Amazon. You can learn more at merridithfrediani.com.

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Giving it All

It is good for me to remind myself, when I get mired down in the daily mess of life, that my time on earth is transitory. In the entirety of my existence, beginning with conception and continuing forever, life on earth is a tiny blip. It feels huge but it is a mere speck. That’s hard to imagine being bound by time as we are. Never ending eternity, whether in heaven or hell, is impossible to grasp. 

It is good to remember this truth though because it helps to more rightly frame time on earth. In today’s Gospel we hear of two instances of a man selling all he has with joy in pursuit of the kingdom of heaven. I ask myself if I am willing to not just sell all I have, but give all I have because I think that is what Jesus asks of us – give all we have, surrender all we are to the Father. Giving it all and doing it joyfully feels big. 

Am I able to do this? Is there something I value so much that would be hard to give? Do I trust that I’ll still have what I need? 

Several years ago I gave God permission to do what he wanted with my life. It felt at first as if I made a mistake because I was stripped of what I thought was his will. I believe that initially I was doing his will because it led me to a place where I could give him this permission but what he allowed to happen confused me. I ended up giving it all – or as much as I could. At first there was no joy but our God is a patient and gentle teacher and he showed me how to find joy in a place where I had no control, just a lot of uncertainty. 

In going from a rowboat, rowing against the waves to a sailboat powered by the Holy Spirit, I learned that giving it all can be done joyfully. And I learned that while my life’s purpose is to get to heaven, I am not pursuing God as much as God is pursuing me. 

So I’m not alone with nothing, rather I’m growing in communion with the perfect friend – Jesus. I’ve received a hundred times more than I gave. It’s true that God is never outdone in generosity and what he had in store was more than I dreamed. 

Giving God permission may feel scary, but in doing so, we make space for him and we become filled with his grace. The more we give, the more he comes crashing in. And he is greater than a field of treasure or a pearl of great price – he is the glory of the universe, the almighty God and he is so good. 

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Merridith Frediani’s perfect day includes prayer, writing, unrushed morning coffee, reading, tending to dahlias, and playing Sheepshead with her husband and three kids.  She loves finding God in the silly and ordinary.  She writes for Ascension Press, Catholic Mom, and her local Catholic Herald in Milwaukee. Her first book Draw Close to Jesus: A Woman’s Guide to Eucharistic Adoration is expected to be released summer 2021. You can reach her at merridith.frediani@gmail.com

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Be Like Abram

There’s a detail in today’s First Reading that was brought to my attention several years ago which changed the way I see this story now. Abram was questioning God’s plan. God came to him promising rewards and Abram wondered what good the rewards would be since he had no son to pass them down to. He was concerned his inheritance would go to his servant. 

God’s response was to take him outside and tell him to count the stars – that’s how many descendants he would have. This had to have been rather hard for Abram to believe because he and his wife Sarai were old and unable to conceive a child. But Abram put his faith in the Lord. He trusted that while it seemed impossible, if God said it would be so, then it would.

He then followed God’s direction to sacrifice some animals and here’s the detail in verse 12 that is important: “As the sun was about to set….” Then in verse 17, we read “When the sun had set and it was dark.” 

When God took Abram outside and asked him to number the stars, it was daytime! There’s just one star in the sky in the day and it’s the sun. Abram saw that one star and he believed it would be sufficient. He believed that despite his lack of children so far and counting just one star, God would keep his promise of many descendants.

We can pray for trust like his. We can ask for the grace to be patient and wait, believing that God will keep his promise. Even if something seems too small, God can make it great. Maybe, like me, you wonder how you can help make this sad, broken world a place where God is glorified. What can I, just one person, do? 

I can begin by trusting God. Trusting he has a plan and even if I can’t see all of it, it will come to fruition. Today, I can do one thing to help make this world better. I can love one person a little more. I can shift my gaze from myself to others and lastly to Jesus. I can have faith that by looking at what is in front of me today and trusting God, all will be well.

Even if it seems like it can’t possibly be enough, it can be. Just ask Abram how it turned out for him.

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Merridith Frediani’s perfect day includes prayer, writing, unrushed morning coffee, reading, tending to dahlias, and playing Sheepshead with her husband and three kids.  She loves finding God in the silly and ordinary.  She writes for Ascension Press, Catholic Mom, and her local Catholic Herald in Milwaukee. Her first book Draw Close to Jesus: A Woman’s Guide to Eucharistic Adoration is expected to be released summer 2021. You can reach her at merridith.frediani@gmail.com

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Swimming Upstream

I think it’s interesting that as a practicing Catholic I am counter-cultural. It’s not a label I expected to be slapped to my shoulders. In today’s Responsorial Psalm I’m reminded why this counter-cultural stamp is true, because in Psalm 19 we read about law, specifically God’s law and this is something that makes people uncomfortable.

We live in a time of your truth, my truth, his truth, and her truth. It’s all good. We each know best. We’re not happy, at peace, or joyful, but we cling to this ideology. But in Psalm 19, we not only acknowledge the goodness and rightness of God’s law, we rejoice in it and celebrate it. The culture that I – and probably you too – seem to be counter to can’t abide by any sort of truth. There cannot be right and wrong because then someone is wrong and that’s not nice. We signal our love for someone by accepting as truth whatever works for that person, regardless of consequences.

Let’s swim upstream: who invented the universe? God. Who keeps the universe going? God. Who created you and me? God. Who keeps us waking up every morning? God. It seems that the one who does all the creating and maintaining should surely be the one who writes the rules. 

The rules are good and not arbitrary. The psalmist sings in praise of these laws from a perfect and trustworthy God. These laws give us joy. They are precious.

There is great comfort in knowing we are led by a Father who acts out of love, who we can trust, and who wants only good for us. Because of this he gave us laws. He knows us, he  knows what we face, and he knows that his law will help us, not hurt or hobble us.

The precepts of the Lord give joy to the heart.

Alleluia!

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Merridith Frediani’s perfect day includes prayer, writing, unrushed morning coffee, reading, tending to dahlias, and playing Sheepshead with her husband and three kids.  She loves finding God in the silly and ordinary.  She writes for Ascension Press, Catholic Mom, and her local Catholic Herald in Milwaukee. Her first book Draw Close to Jesus: A Woman’s Guide to Eucharistic Adoration is expected to be released summer 2021. You can reach her at merridith.frediani@gmail.com

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Jesus is the Bread of Life

A while back, I went through a faith reversion and I was participating in a small faith sharing group. One morning I told the group I had felt empty when I went to a non-Catholic church for a wedding. I couldn’t identify why. The people were full of genuine love for Jesus and there was beautiful music, but I walked away feeling a strong desire to rush to my home parish. I realized that at any Catholic church I had ever been to I felt a sense of something. I couldn’t find the word but my fellow group members knew what I meant.  

One of them, clearly wiser than me, said in a gentle voice, “It’s Jesus.  He is there in the tabernacle.” Even though I am a lifelong practicing Catholic who believes in Jesus Christ’s Real Presence, it took that “ohhh” moment to make me realize I also know it’s his Real Presence. I felt it in my head and my heart and recognized it for the gift it is.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus clearly tells us that he is the bread of life and if we come to him and believe in him we will never hunger or thirst. This passage is the beginning of the Bread of Life discourse in John where Jesus tells his followers that they need to eat his flesh and drink his blood to have eternal life. He tees up the institution of the Eucharist that we read about at the Last Supper on Holy Thursday. He doesn’t back down from this teaching. The disciples comment that this is a hard teaching and they aren’t wrong. It is a hard teaching. When some followers left, Jesus didn’t run after them and clarify. He didn’t recant and say he meant we need to eat a symbol of his body. He let them leave. 

A survey by Pew Research found that 63% of Catholics do not believe that during Mass the bread and wine become the body and blood of Christ (transubstantiation). That’s how hard this teaching is. Yet that leaves 37% of Catholics who do believe in it. I feel blessed to confess this truth. I feel blessed to be able to go to Mass and receive Jesus in this concrete way. This reality is so powerful that at Holy Thursday Mass, our pastor teared up during the Consecration and I suspect I wasn’t the only one who, when hearing his voice crack and witnessing him wiping his eyes, felt moved to my core with gratitude. My own tears came a few minutes later when one of our seminarians gave Holy Communion to his sister. I was so overcome with happiness to be back in church for the Triduum, to be able to receive this gift of himself that Jesus gave us.

Jesus is the bread of life. It’s a hard teaching but it’s an important one. Jesus didn’t mince words with this one. He said he is the bread of life and we need to eat his body and drink his blood. We are blessed to live in a place where we can do that freely. 

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Merridith Frediani’s perfect day includes prayer, writing, unrushed morning coffee, reading, tending to dahlias, and playing Sheepshead with her husband and three kids.  She loves finding God in the silly and ordinary.  She writes for Ascension Press, Catholic Mom, and her local Catholic Herald in Milwaukee. Her first book Draw Close to Jesus: A Woman’s Guide to Eucharistic Adoration is expected to be released summer 2021. You can reach her at merridith.frediani@gmail.com

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Winter Waves

The wind today is particularly aggressive and our little portion of Lake Michigan is turbulent. As I drove up the lakefront after work I noticed how violent and unsettled the water was. I could see the whitecaps all the way to the horizon and the waves breaking closer to shore reminded me of the ocean, crashing into each other at improbable angles. They seemed to be approaching from both the southeast and the northeast. The water was the color of coffee with just the right amount of cream. 

It wasn’t the first time I sat in that lot and took a crummy phone video of the waves to show my family. There is something that pulls me in there whenever they are active. 

I wasn’t alone. Several photographers arrived with cameras with long lenses around their neck. One squatted down to get the perfect angle. Another set up a tripod. Over on the beach, surfers were rejoicing. A mother shivered next to her son who pointed at the breaking waves. A father called his daughter off the rocks. Couples walked past and a runner stopped and sat on the rocks for a few minutes. People in work clothes jumped out with their phones for a few shots and people in sweats posed for pictures with the waves behind them. We were all pulled to the water. 

I realized the waves looked like how my heart feels – unsettled, at odds, moving in different directions. I wondered if others’ hearts felt the same. 

In this time of an unsettled heart, I am consoled by the plea heard in today’s Responsorial Psalm. “Let my cry come to you. Do not hide your face from me in the day of my distress.” (Ps 102: 2-3) Yes! This is our cry when the waves are crashing.

I wonder if God sees the same beauty in our turbulent hearts that we see in the turbulent lake. I think he does. I think it is in those times when we feel out of control and we cry out to him that he smiles, not because he is glad we are troubled, but because we go to him. At any moment he can still the water and our hearts. 

And he does. “The LORD looked down from his holy height, from heaven he beheld the earth,

To hear the groaning of the prisoners, to release those doomed to die.” (Ps 102: 20-21) He hears our cry, he sees our distress, and he rescues us. He sent his Son to save us from death and he comforts us when the waves in our heart are churned up. He is so very good. 

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Merridith Frediani’s perfect day includes prayer, writing, unrushed morning coffee, reading, tending to dahlias, and playing Sheepshead with her husband and three kids.  She loves finding God in the silly and ordinary.  She writes for Ascension Press, Catholic Mom, and her local Catholic Herald in Milwaukee. Her first book Draw Close to Jesus: A Woman’s Guide to Eucharistic Adoration is expected to be released summer 2021. You can reach her at merridith.frediani@gmail.com

Feature Image Credit: photo taken by Merridith Frediani

Persistence In Prayer

We hear in today’s reading and Gospel about the importance of not just prayer, but persistence in prayer. Queen Esther spends the day praying to God for help in freeing her enslaved people, the Jews.  She is described as being in “mortal anguish” as she lay on the ground begging God to give her the right words. This passage is just the beginning of a much longer prayer but in it we see elements of a perfect prayer. She begins by praising and blessing God. She knows he is the God of her forefathers and that he answers prayers. She acknowledges – twice – that she is alone and dependent on God. She approaches him with humility and faith in his good will. 

Then she asks God for what she desires – help in saving her people from death. Her husband, the king and his chief minister were planning to kill all the Jews in the empire. Being Jewish herself, Esther couldn’t let this happen and knew she was in a position to help but she didn’t know how. So she turned to God fully believing that as he had saved the Jews in the past, he would do so again. She knew that it would be him working through her that would save them.

Today’s Gospel follows the theme of persistence in prayer. Jesus exhorts us to ask, seek, and knock. He assures us we will receive and draws the parallel of God as our father. If we as sinful people, would grant our own children’s request, so much more will the perfect Almighty Father give good things to us. Jesus assures us all we need to do is ask him. 

We can be bold in approaching the Father because Jesus came to earth to restore our broken relationship with God. He is the door to our Father; he is the Way. God is not an unreachable deity in the sky who sits dispassionately in judgment. Rather he is a loving Father who desires good for us. Does this mean we can ask for and receive a money tree for our backyard or anything else equally silly? No. What it means is that we can go to Him in prayer, praising him, thanking him, and knowing he sees us and hears us. With our faithful hearts we believe that while we may not get what we think we want, we will get what God knows we need and that is always perfect. 

We are blessed to be the children of a Father who will not be outdone in generosity. When we go to him, whether it is in sorrow, fear, confusion, or anxiety, we are assured that he is with us and will give us what we need to continue to grow more in love with him. 

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Merridith Frediani’s perfect day includes prayer, writing, unrushed morning coffee, reading, tending to dahlias, and playing Sheepshead with her husband and three kids.  She loves finding God in the silly and ordinary.  She writes for Ascension Press, Catholic Mom, and her local Catholic Herald in Milwaukee. Her first book Draw Close to Jesus: A Woman’s Guide to Eucharistic Adoration is expected to be released summer 2021. You can reach her at merridith.frediani@gmail.com

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